Black Ribbon
by Crazy Kat Productions
Summary: Adalicia is a young aspiring actress in America- or at least, she was. Waking up in the Opera Populaire, how will she deal with the strains of such a life.. and a certain Phantom who begins to take interest in her? idea credited to Ms.Butler121709
1. Life's An Adventure

**Based off of true events until the Phantom shows up xD everything after that is a mindless fantasy… :D if only, if only- OMG wanna hear something funny? I was listening to Ramin sing LND songs (GASP SO BEAUTIFUL) and skyping a friend and I'm like "Dude, I would totes make out with Ramin." And she's like "Well, I'd like to eat ramen." And I DIED. Heehee sexual innuendoes… and outuendoes ;D but then again, she had some truth.. I'm sure a lot of us would like to eat Ramin ;) oh god I'm gross. BAD me. Okay. Fanfic. Story. Writing. Now. THERE IS NO NOW! That just played in the song I'm listening to. Freakin' epic timing. LND. I need to pee. I just rhymed. I'm out of time. Bye.**

"Shh- Addie, be quiet!" Sage whispered behind me. I turned back and smiled at her, her eyes full with wonder and fear. She placed a tentative hand on my shoulder and I smiled again.

"Let's go," I murmured. We continued walking cautiously behind the stage. Old vintage carpets hid the bare wood floor on the narrow passageway. On the left was a doorway. Peeking into it, I gasped quietly when I saw the long dimly lit hallway. The light in there was a misty blue, with empty dressing rooms all along the far wall. The corridor was just as narrow as the one behind the theater. The ground was old creaky wood, and Sage stiffened as soon as I stepped into the hallway and a loud groan came from the floor.

"This is creepy- like an insane asylum passageway or something." Her hand tightened on my shoulder. I casually shrugged it off when I walked down the hall.

"Look- roof access!" I whispered happily. I turned to Sage, only to glimpse her figure turning away and leaving. I sighed.

Opening the door to the roof access quietly, I stopped breathing for a moment and took in the dark, ominous looking stairs that loomed before me. Could I make it back in time? What if I miss my queue? What if I'm not allowed to be here?

"Life is an adventure," I whispered. As I stepped forward, I could swear I heard a low chuckle under the sound of the creaking floorboards. Shaking my head, I continued walking up the first flight of steps.

"What am I expecting to see, the Phantom? More likely a homeless pedophile…" I whispered to myself, almost bitterly- because deep down I knew that I wanted Erik to be standing around the next corner.

But he wasn't. There was only dusty blackness and more steps. I sighed.

Out of nervous habit, I hummed softly- the first thing that came to mind, in fact, was Beautiful from Love Never Dies.

"I think it's beautiful… Almost too beautiful…" I took more steps. My voice seemed to wrap around me and intertwine with the dust particles which swirled at my presence. More steps. More steps. I started to hear other instruments play in the dark, other voices backing up my soft voice. Slowly the blackness lost its blue hues and went all dark, the world shut off, the power was flipped, strong arms caught me but I still crashed to the floor.

"Adalicia? Addie?" A French accent pronounced my name perfectly. And I recognized it too.

"Christine…?" I whispered, sitting up and rubbing my head. Blinking quickly, I gasped at what I saw.

I was laying on the Opera Populaire's stage. Christine Daaé was kneeling down at my left, and Meg Giry was at my feet. They both wore ballerina gowns of faded pink. I wore one also.

My long hair was carefully tied back in a bun. I could feel an aching pain in my ankle and head.

"Ouch!" I said after a couple seconds and the initial shock of being in France faded. For once, I was quite glad I knew French fluently. Other dancers gathered around me as I rubbed my head, and then my ankle.

"Oh Adalicia, are you alright?" Meg asked.

"I'm not sure, could you help me stand?" I said tentatively. Meg took my right arm and Christine my left, and I rose to my feet. I tried to take a step on my left ankle, but crumpled in pain. I cried out, but quickly bit my tongue. I hated showing weakness, especially through hurt.

"It's not that bad, trust me. I just have something in my ballet slipper. May I have a break?" I asked, trying to take in what was happening, the pain I was in, and what to do next.

"Of course, that was quite a fall, Mademoiselle." Madame Giry said from across the stage.

"I'll take you back to your room, Addie," Christine whispered. I gripped her shoulder tightly and she laced an arm around my waist. I pretended to feel no pain and limped slightly. Once we had managed to exit the stage, I turned to Christine and whispered quietly to her.

"I must admit- I can't remember where my room is. Or what we're dancing for. Frankly, I know my name, yours, Megs, and Madame Giry's, but no one else I know." Christine only smiled.

"Do not fret, little Adalicia, this is only your second day here. You've only met us three. And your room is connected to mine." She said, pointing down the hall with a smile.

"Oh, of course! Thank you so much," I said, hugging her lightly.

"Of course Addie. You know, once you feel better, you should sing for everyone. I have never heard someone with a voice like yours, and since it seems as though you won't be dancing for a while-" I cut her off briskly and walked away from her embrace.

"Dancing is my life. Singing is a hobby. I would if I was good enough, dear friend. Good evening," I fumbled through a curtsey and ran to my room. My head was spinning and I couldn't understand.

They wanted me to sing? I went back in time? Where was I? Had the Phantom come yet? And how did I fall? How did I come here?

Who is Adalicia, a ballet dancer and singer in France? And what happened to Addie, an aspiring actress in musical theatre from America?


	2. A Beacon

**Thank you to those that reviewed, it made my day wonderful! And don't worry, Erik will enter our story soon. but for now.. Addie has some adventurin' to do!**

I woke up when I heard a high pitched scream echoing through my room. The piercing sound didn't stop

"Rest, child, rest," Madame Giry cooed, pushing me gently back into the bed and caressing my forehead with a cold cloth.

"Adalicia, my child, you mustn't exert yourself. You have a fever and your ankle is badly sprained. I heard from Christine that you walked on it- what were you thinking, child?" She smiled at me warmly.

"I… I was confused. I don't remember how I got here, I don't remember anything after waking up. I'm so confused, Madame Giry…" I whispered, my eyes fluttering closed as I felt the fever rise. Sweat dripped down my neck and my brows furrowed in pain.

"Sleep, Adalicia. You will remember soon, do not fret." And I drifted into a fitful nightmare full of unknown fears and blood curdling screams.

_I was trying to find a painting. A piece of art that was perfect. Around me, notes were played- each one flat or sharp, just missing the perfection that I was always looking for. It caused me to fidget as I ran through the halls, looking for any art work that was even close to what I saw._

_There were boxes when I saw swirls, faces when I saw feet, happiness when I saw endless sorrow. Everything was mixed and imperfect, highlighted by the cacophony of sounds that echoed through the halls. Suddenly a voice rang through my head, very quietly._

"_Can't you hear me?" It asked simply. _

"_Barely, speak up!" I said to the empty air. _

"_Alas, to speak up would be to lose my unheard perfection. You, my sweet, must listen harder." _

"Christine, how do you sleep at night?"

"She doesn't usually scream. I've heard that fevers can cause horrible nightmares. Maybe that's all this was." Christine whispered to Meg.

"I feel so strange." I said suddenly, sitting up. My throat hurt. Meg said something about me screaming. Had I?

"I wonder why," Meg said softly, giggling a little. I smiled at the comment.

"Strange… but okay. More than okay, I think…" The girls regarded me strangely, but I turned to face them with a smile. "Really. I feel as though I've stepped out of sickness and feel so perfect. When can I dance again?"

"Really? That's wonderful, Addie! We have rehearsals at noon, in an hour." Christine beamed at me.

"I'll be there. Thanks so much, friends!" I waved them goodbye as they exited my room. I let out a long sigh. It would be so wonderful to dance again. That was one big thing that I didn't have in my other lifestyle- I wasn't allowed to take dance lessons, it was almost always voice and acting.

My old life! It hit me like a wave. How long had I been out? Was this the afterlife, had I died? Maybe I was just in a coma or something…

But when I glanced into the mirror and then looked around my dressing room, it didn't matter. Here I had purpose, I was appreciated, and people seemed to like me. It wasn't like the old stage I was used to.

_Sage and Hailey sat in each other's embrace, giggling and brushing noses. The boys were messing with their shoe laces while chatting about video games, while Emma and Isabella's laughter echoed across the stage. Glancing around, I winced as Rachel and Alicia joined in the amusement. A couple other actors where huddled together, consulting each other about their group scene. The stage was where I felt powerful but so, so alone. Acting and theatre could be so beautiful, and make me so happy- or I could end up sitting alone, reflecting on a life I didn't have. I yearned for the applauding crowds, the beaming faces, the inspired people, the music that I knew would someday waft through the house as I finished a piece. I closed my eyes, imagining the beauty I would soon create. I would sing, and dance, a rose petal gliding across a pool of black. _

_And now, as I opened my eyes, I sat alone. An empty house. Laughter all around, but nothing inside. _

"_I'll find joy," I thought. "Sometimes the best things bring you pain instead of happiness." My thoughts digressed from then on, picking at my nails and inspecting the black stage floor. _

_Until quite suddenly, I felt something odd. Quickly glancing up to the ceiling of the old theater house, I noticed something strange. In the old dome that arched over the crowd, there was one black panel in the ring of rosy pink one's. I chuckled quietly and looked down. I pointed it out to Alicia._

"_Hi Erik…" She yelled, waving to the ceiling. She then returned to what she was doing and I swallowed my sadness. It seemed unimportant to her, like she didn't feel the same way. I couldn't bring myself to say anything or even wave, so I simply nodded at the black panel. Then I returned to my loneliness, knowing that no Phantom watched over me. _

I sat down in front of the vanity and began fixing my hair. I braided my long straight hair, pinning my bangs back. I picked a baby blue dancing dress and slipped it on easily. My long fingers quickly laced up the back, and I was glad that I played the piano, which gave me the slender digits.

"You say our time has come, you're tired of holding on… don't be obscene, I can't conceive of living without you. You say you'll drag me down, no one could want you now, and I start to cry… but you kiss my eyes and say I'm not allowed too." I continued to hum out The Beacon by A Fine Frenzy, enjoying the joy that music brought. Clearing my throat, I strained to listen for the last notes of the song that I had heard being sung from the corners of the room.

"Who is there?" I asked, fear blending into my tired voice.

There was no answer but the sound of a moving cape, and a flicker of light dancing across the mirror. Gasping, I swore I saw the figure of a man running away.

"Adalicia, are you coming? Rehearsals are starting!" Meg called from outside my door.

"Right away!" I quickly chirped back. I gazed at the empty mirror once more and wondered what mysteries hid behind it.


	3. Breathe No More

**Short but I wanted to write something, I was feeling the need but hadn't the time. Lots coming soon- just a couple weeks till spring break! **

I came back from dance rehearsals exhausted. The new number we were doing was very difficult! There were so many lifts and dips, each followed by a series of turns and leaps. I lounged back in my chair in front of the vanity and undid my tight braid, allowing my long brunette tendrils of hair free. Grabbing a piece of red ribbon, I tied it back in a loose pony tail once more. Changing from my blue dancing dress into a less constricting faded red one, I decided I ought to go exploring around the Opera Populaire. I left my dressing room, humming a random tune that floated from my head to my lips.

"I've been looking in the mirror for too long," I sang, my hands trailing along the cool marble walls of the Opera house. It was quiet for the moment, as most girls rested and the main stage was left abandoned.

"That I've gotten to believe that my soul's on the other side…" I continued, cautiously making my way up to the main stage. Would they mind if I sang a little? No one was around, and rehearsals were done for the day… So I thought why not. It was a dream come true anyways.

"All the little pieces falling, shatter. Shards of me- too sharp to put back together. Too small to matter- but big enough to cut me into so many little pieces. And when I try to touch them I bleed. I bleed… and I breathe…. I breathe no more." The song was by Evanescence, and I relished at the clarity of my voice on the stage. How it seemed to ring through every prop and metal fixture, how every seat seemed to embrace my sound into its velvet cushions. I simply stopped singing to listen to the resonating sound, the glorious feeling of it all seeping into my being.

Then the perfect moment was altered- but not broken.

"My what a voice, Mademoiselle. You must be new…" Sang a clear and dark voice from the shadows of the theatre. It came from nowhere… and yet, everywhere.

"Indeed I am, Monsieur. Thank you also… and where are you, if I may ask?" I gulped. I knew who it was. I could feel myself paling at the thought- I wasn't his Christine. He probably thought I was trying to steal the stage from her and would- my God, he would kill me without a second thought!

"Do not fret, little one. I simply am a Ghost of this Opera House… I am unknown, and should not concern you." I could feel his eyes staring at me, but I didn't know where he was. I felt blind- he could see my white skin and sweaty palms while I was pray to his beautiful voice.

"The fear is in the unknown, Monsieur… but I must admit, I know who you are." I bit my tongue before saying Erik, knowing that there was no way I could explain knowing his name. "The Phantom of the Opera. The genius of music, the true director of the magnificent performances that occur here. The Angel of Music to Christine Daae…" I whispered Christine's name and felt a pang of sadness. It was a reminder. The Phantom was hers, not mine. Even after Raoul, I knew Erik would never go to someone like me.

"How do you know of this, wise Mademoiselle?" He spoke, an edge of anger tinting his words.

"Christine, she talks in her sleep. She speaks of an Angel of Music who sings songs in her head. And Meg, she spreads stories of the Phantom who is truly running this place. Who secretly employs us through we cannot see him."

"Ah, Meg. I am not surprised." There was now humor in his voice. But he didn't mention Christine.

"I must ask you, little Mademoiselle, if you would care for voice lessons. I do believe with coaching you could be quite superb." I took a step back at this comment.

"Me? A superb voice? Why, I… I would be delighted, though I must admit I think you're wasting your time, good Monsieur. Christine's voice is so-"

"Pure and innocent, simple and yet highly trained? She holds the technique yes. But you… if I may say so, Mademoiselle, you have the passion, range, and love of the music that creates a unique voice… which Miss Daae does not have."

I gasped. I took more steps back. Colors started to whirl a little, and I struggled to maintain balance.

"Oh no…" I whispered. Frantically realizing my situation, I shouted out without thinking.

"Erik, help! I feel… so…Erik…" The swirling colors faded into black. I don't even remember hitting the worn stage floor. But I do remember waking up in a room that I recognized much too well.


	4. Sin Itself

**GUNNA BE SHORT CUZ I NEED SLEEP BUT I GOT AN IDEA OKAY GO.**

_I was simply sitting on my bed, texting my friends. It was a Monday afternoon and I was happy to be ignoring my homework and just enjoying myself. My phone buzzed and I smiled. It was from my friend Carren. She was close to me, and we had been friends for about four years. _

"_Addie… I'm so sorry. I should've been a better friend. You were always the best, mon ami. You can forget me, please. Please tell everyone I'm sorry. But forget me, darling. Just forget me, like a summer breeze." _

_I was puzzled. What kind of a text was that?_

"_I would never forget you, mon cheri! You are a good friend, don't worry. What are you talking about?" _

_I sent it back. Why was she using past tense? Like she was… _

_Dead._

_I began dialing her home phone as I ran down the stairs and said I have to go, it's an emergency- or something like that- to my parents. I had no shoes on, only skinny jeans and a t-shirt. I ran and ran, I got tired but then ran faster, I could see the blood in my footprints but it stopped quickly. I ran and ran and ran and cried and listened to the ringing. _

_Ring, run._

_Ring, run._

_Ring, run._

"_Hi, you've reached the Harren family, we aren't here right now, please leave a message and we'll get back to you as soon as we can." _

_I screamed, and cried harder. I ran and ran, why did she have to live so far away? Finally I was close. I tried the door, I banged on it- it was unlocked and I ran in and up the stairs. _

_God no, god no, god no, please god no. The bathroom was empty… the door to her room was shut. Frantically I threw it open. _

_There she was. Hovering. Limp. _

_Dead._

_I felt like I could never stop screaming. _

"Dear God, mademoiselle…" The Phantom stood over me, his cool hand pressed lightly against my forehead.

"Are you alright?" He seemed almost terrified. In his yellow eyes I could see the fear of what he had possibly done wrong dance with horror at what made me scream, and yet more fear for what I would do next.

I started with remembering how to breathe. God, I hated it when I got that dream!

"I am so sorry… It was a nightmare." He stood up from my side and gave me room to get out of bed. I was dressed in the same dress, but with a light blanket over my shoulders. I shrugged it off easily; I was neither afraid nor affected by the cold air.

"What happened last night…?" I asked quietly. The Phantom was tentative with all his movements, pouring tea at the table with the precision of a machine.

"You fainted on stage, and I took you here to rest. This is my home, where music and artifice reign. You slept till you began to weep and scream, then woke. Now you are here with me." I gazed at the Phantom. Slicked back black hair, white porcelain mask, crisp jaw line and large figure- he was amazingly well built and handsome. My curiosity towards his deformity was immense, but I didn't dare take of his mask yet.

"I take it you are the Phantom of the Opera?" I said feebly, sitting across from him at the table. He handed me tea and our hands brushed. We both recoiled instantly, our eyes growing wide. There was something in that touch, I knew it. He had felt it too, from the look on his face.

"Yes. And you, Mademoiselle, knew my name…" He gazed at me intently and my breath caught in my throat.

"Oh… I did?" My brain fumbled for the correct answer. He only chuckled as I continued to struggle with my throbbing head.

"I'm sorry, I don't even remember. There was music, then blackness, then the nightmare, then… you." I gestured to him, and he nodded curtly.

"You are not missing any key parts of the story. I must have misheard you, Mademoiselle."

"But what is it?" I asked.

"Pardon?" He said, licking his lips.

"Your name, Monsieur. What is it?" His warm yellow eyes turned dark and he met my gaze once more.

"I am the Phantom of the Opera, petite fille. And I am not one to be toyed with either- you best beware of this, this _monster_ that I am, mon cher. Je suis péché lui-même."

I shuddered at his last words, and knew then that I would never forget them.

"_I am sin itself." _


	5. Blue and Yellow, Black and Blue

**Its snowing here :DDD and im a pegasister. That is all. WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS PRETTY INTENSE. READ ONLY IF YOU AREN'T GOING TO BE FRIGHTENED AWAY OR EMOTIONALLY SCARRED BY MODERATELY SEXUAL THINGS. Mkay enjoy!**

"Time to return you, Mademoiselle. I am glad you are alright," He added the final comment quickly, bowing his head and pulling back my chair. Standing, I gazed up at him. I forgot to breathe. His deep golden eyes looked beyond me as I stood under him, and for a moment I simply was still. Then he noticed and glanced at me, and I instantly widened my eyes and began to feel my face flush. He turned, and I could see a mocking smile on his lips. Out of habit, I huffed a little and crossed my arms. He appeared alarmed at this, so I smiled and then quickly put my head down. If he didn't already want to kill me, he surely would now. How could I let myself be so flirtatious? Once Christine sang, I would be old news. And if I pushed him after that… well, he wouldn't think twice about killing me.

Now stricken with fear, I sat stiffly in the boat as he rowed us back to land. Walking briskly up the corridors, once I reached the mirror door I turned sharply to say goodbye and thank him.

He was close.

His cape was still billowing around us both. His cheeks began to gain a light pink color, and I could feel my face grow hot. He swallowed. God, he was close. My heart was about to pound out of my chest! Why wasn't he moving? Should I say something? I think I mumbled. I bit my lip, and then pressed them together. With a sudden burst of courage, I stared at him straight in the eyes.

Yellow and blue. I realized that those are two of my favorite colors. His eyes were flecked with brown, like drops of dirt in a sea of gold. I felt the ghost of a hand caress my cheek, and I instinctively leaned into it for more contact. The Phantom tensed at the touch and I simply sighed. Why did it have to feel so good, so right? I had closed my eyes. Now I opened them. It seemed as though he was closer. I could feel his breath on my nose, and his eyes analyzed my face. Unable to stop myself, I began to lean into him. He took a step back and I almost ran at that moment. Was I insane? He was going to kill me.

But he stopped moving backward. He might have even leaned in. Our breath mingled. I felt my face blush and his presence made me feel so perfect, so safe, and so whole. Basically the opposite of how I should feel around a dangerous ghost murderer.

Did we kiss? Was I too deep in thought?

Blue and black.

He was gone.

I bit my tongue before a string of profanities could escape.

"Great… my breath must be horrid…" I eventually whispered to myself, crawling through the mirror and pulling it shut tight behind me. Sighing, I sat on my bed and fell over. I was too tired for anything now.

"Adalicia! You're late!" Madame Giry screeched at me. Jumping from my bed, I pinned my hair back in seconds and pulled on a random ballet gown and ran out.

"I'm so sorry, Madame… I must have overslept. I couldn't sleep last night, also…" She shushed me with a flick of her hand.

"Go on, I understand." Racing to the ballet room, I somehow made it through the day. Thankfully it kept my mind off of anything else. That was one thing that was beautiful about dance- everything else melted away.

"So, Addie, how have you been?" Meg asked as we finished our end of the day stretches.

"Having a hard time sleeping… but I'm better now, I believe. And yourself, Meg?" I asked smiling. I really liked Meg.

"I've been great. Mother says if I keep working this hard, I could be a lead ballerina one day soon. And did you hear? The Vicomte de Chagny is going to be our new patron." She lowered her voice to an excited whisper. "I heard that Christine and him grew up together," I gasped happily and she giggled, then shushed me.

"If anyone asks you, I know nothing!" She said as she rose from her straddle stretch. "Alright, I'm headed out to get some food. Are you coming?"

I shook my head.

"I'm going to rest,"

But I didn't make it back to my room.

Walking into the main hall, I marveled at the golden stairs and statues, and ran my hand along the cool marble walls.

"Hey missie," I heard someone wolf whistle at me. He had an American accent, and as I turned to face him, he also had two friends.

"You look real pretty, honey," One said, words slurred.

"Thank you, Monsieur. I should be-" I began.

"Come here, _mon cher_." I cringed at his French accent. They started walking towards me when I didn't heed their command.

"Please, Monsieurs, I must be going."

"Don't think so-"

The buff man grabbed my wrist and yanked me back to them. A short guy clamped a hand over my mouth, and the tallest sir glanced around to see if anyone was around. They quickly pulled me into a dark cramped room, one I'd never seen. It appeared to be some sort of an old supply closet.

Something cold and metallic pressed threateningly against my neck.

"Scream and you die, petite fille." Suddenly the whole situation hit me. I was locked in a dark room with three men, and at least one of them had a knife and told me he would kill me if I made any noise.

What was I going to do?

I wriggled a little, trying to free myself from their grasp. I only succeeded in ripping off part of my dress. This action was met with hostile laughter from my captors. I could feel tears begin to stream down my face as I stopped myself from screaming. Two clammy hands began to work their way across my body. They were joined by two more hands, then two more, all exploring and violating me. I sobbed, biting my tongue instead of yelling through the tears. They pulled my dress off and I beat against them, but to no avail. One man pushed me up against a wall and in one swift motion began to rape me.

I tried to hide inside myself. I tried to do anything to escape in any way. My ears strained to hear the quiet melodies that usually echoed through my head.

Silence.

I attacked the rapist once again, only to be pushed down by the taller man. I felt as though I was going to throw up, and the feeling only heightened when the buff man left me and the shorter took his place. God, when was this going to end? Would any one save me? Where was the Phantom, where was Meg, where was Christine or Madame Giry… why did this happen to me, of all people? I'm not even supposed to be here. I'm a mistake.

Maybe that's why they were raping me. Because I was a mistake. I stopped crying and let myself go completely limp. I gazed beyond what was happening to me and drifted. I was no longer in touch with reality. I didn't know where I was anymore.

I was alone now. Alone in the dark, ripped and torn, a broken mirror, an empty shell. The rapists had left. I couldn't cry anymore, I had no voice, and life began to fade from the vibrant music I once saw to a dull shade of silence.


	6. Like Music

**My elbow hurts. And my wrists. Bother. Maybe I played the piano too much?**

Later, I sat on the floor in my room. I put the knife away in the vanity drawer. I would bind my wrists with cloth in a moment. I didn't want anyone to see, after all. Especially since these were fresh.

I collapsed on the floor next to my bed and curled into a fetal position, rocking back and forth slowly. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as tears began to flow, stinging my wrists which covered my face. The tears soon turned to sobs.

I was a monster. There was something wrong with me, there had to be. Since I was a mistake, they raped me. So therefore I am flawed. There is something wrong. I am a monster. Why didn't anyone tell me sooner?

There was a sudden rush of cold air and black material floated around me- a cape? Two bony hands gently touched my shoulders, and I gasped at the contact before returning to my childish sobbing. I barely recognized who the dark man was in my hysteria.

It seemed like hours later when I stopped crying abruptly. The tears ran out. The sadness was replaced with simple emptiness, and I relished in it. To go from such horrible feeling to finally nothing; it was glorious. I took the chance to glance up at the kind man who had comforted me.

He didn't have a nose. That was probably the first thing I noticed. Then the fact that all his skin was sunken in, that one half of his face literally looked like Frankenstein. He looked sickly and pale, the ghostly skin clinging to his jaw bones, his left eye dark and sunken in. The other half of his face was slightly less pale, with a lean but healthy cheek and bright piercing golden eyes. Why wasn't he wearing his mask?

Slowly I met his eyes and I let out a low, guttural growl before pushing me away. I simply sat below him, unable to move. There was nothing worse he could do to me now. Killing me would have been a tremendous favor. He glanced at me and I watched through empty eyes as a new emotion played across his face- sadness.

He sighed and collapsed to the floor next to me, and I almost stopped breathing when I noticed a tear quickly run down his face. An embarrassed blush flooded to both of our cheeks and I rose quickly to get him some tissues. I grabbed a handkerchief from the vanity table and knelt in front of the Phantom's crying form. I could tell that it was killing him to be so weak.

I tentatively held out the handkerchief for him, but he did not look up. Taking a deep breath and holding it, I gently wiped a tear away with the corner of the tissue. His eyes quickly glanced up, his mouth a cold line. Profanities streamed through my head as I froze like a deer in the headlights. My hand remained poised in front of his face, and as his eyes travelled to my unbound wrists I quickly retracted my arm back.

But he was faster.

Grabbing my wrist in a vise-like grip, he analyzed the damage I had so recently inflicted. He gazed up the arm as the scars became more and more faded. He reached for my other arm and was met with the same picture.

"Who." Came the terrifying remark.

"W..what?" I eventually sputtered out.

"Who did this to you. Who did this to you?" He stood, dragging me with him. My knees refused to hold my weight and the Phantom just pulled by wrists closer to him, my limp body proving to be little hindrance.

Apparently it did bother him though, since he hastily grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me lightly, but fervently.

I could only look down in shame.

"I did." At first he was confused, and with any last shreds of survival now long gone, I found the courage to stare him in the face. "I did that to myself."

He dropped me and continued to just stare blankly into the distance. Eventually he fell to his knees, and we sat in silence.

"Why?"

"It's hard to explain…" I said quietly, looking at the cuts along my wrists. What could I say?

"Hmm." Was all he responded with. He seemed like he was exhausted, just like me. I wondered what he had been doing to make him so tired. Rigging the chandelier to fall? No, he hadn't even heard Christine sing yet-

There it was. The flaw. I remembered more clearly now… The Phantom had been training Christine since she was young. He already knew her, but yet here he was with me…

Hope? Is that what I felt? Hope that a murderer would do what, care for me? Kiss away the tears and cuts from all the years of self hatred? This is life. In life, you are lucky if you find someone you can share a good long time with without killing them. The rest of us must remember to pull up our skirts and trudge through. Right?

Doubt. The clouds began to roll in on my learn-to-be-lonely mantra, as images of my friends in the happy arms of their partners sharpened my emptiness into rage. But that rage quickly melted into more sadness- but I had no more tears to shed.

"Why aren't you wearing your mask?" I asked monotonously.

He paused for a moment, as if thinking of what to say.

"It's hard to explain." He retorted coldly. I sighed. He had the temperament of a small child!

"Phantom, we obviously aren't going anywhere soon. You might as well share your story, even if it is difficult for you to explain," This emptiness gave me such bravery! It was beautifully tragic, I must admit, but wonderful. I certainly used it to my advantage.

"I forgot it." His sentence was clipped, his words pronounced with a diction that could only be attributed with acute irritation.

"That is quite simple for something that was supposed to be so-" He turned to me and my words quickly crawled back down my throat.

Now the awkwardness in the room reached new heights, seeing as we were both just sitting there staring at each other. His face seemed caught between anger and remorse. Occasionally he would glance to my wrists and I would self consciously clench my hands into fists. Finally he seemed to have looked enough for the anger to melt into a somewhat sad sort of state.

His golden eyes glittered in the low light. His breaths came controlled and yet heavy with exhaustion. I blinked too much and kept forgetting to breathe under his scrutinizing gaze. Finally, I mentally swore at the world, the planet, God- anyone who was listening, and let out a short breath.

I leaned forward. A centimeter at a time. I kept looking up to see two yellow eyes watching me wearily. Would he turn away again? Our breath mixed, and I could hear his control slip away.

Suddenly forgetting everything, I pushed myself forward and my lips met his.

Two broken people, captured in each other's embrace. Leaving behind, if only for a moment, the pain of the whole world. But yet I could only think one thing.

He tasted like music.


	7. I Saw Him

**More!**

To my horror, the Phantom retracted from the kiss and stared at me oddly.

"I taste like music?" He queried, caught between amusement and confusion. I turned beet red, not realizing I had said my strange thought out loud. Rather than simply shrug it off and laugh at my comment, I just became more embarrassed.

Tastes like music? He would probably think that I meant his lips were as scratchy as score paper and tasted of resin. That they were as cold as the ivory of a piano. I felt like a complete idiot. It didn't even make sense! It still doesn't make sense! Well, it sort of did… music is beautiful. He tasted beautiful, perfect, wonderful- I could go on.

"S-sorry." I stammered, fidgeting when he didn't respond. Eventually I heard him cluck his tongue a little and begin to get up.

"Huh?" I mentally chastised myself for being so incoherent. He most likely thought I was a complete idiot by now. But maybe that was for the better- why kill and idiot who kissed you? They couldn't help it, could they? Maybe there was hope for me yet.

"I do think I should be going now. Adieu, Mademoiselle Adalicia," I could only nod numbly. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Opening my eyes, I realized I was alone once more. Had he used the mirror, or was there a true element of magic with the Phantom?

Sighing, I sat down on the bed and began to rub my sore feet. Who would have thought that even after years of dance, Opera House ballet practices are ten times harder? I had studied hip hop and ballet since I was 6, which put me about up to par with the 14 year olds here who have been here since 10. Meg was the sweetest thing- she gave me an hour of extra lessons just to help me stay up with the rest of the Ballet Corp.

Gazing at the grandfather clock in my dressing room, I practically jumped in surprise. Meg was supposed to be tutoring me in 5 minutes! I quickly cursed and began to lace up my ballet slippers, then bandaging my arms.

I didn't see a problem with cutting. It seemed like it was okay- it's not like I was really inflicting that much damage. Sure I'd have some scars, sure sometimes they bled a little, but was that going to have a lifelong effect? No. Plus, I must admit I'm a bit of an adrenaline junky. Cutting just gives me this rush- in my mind, it's a good thing. It also proves that there is something wrong with me; it gives me a flaw, and that justifies everything bad that has ever happened to me. The loneliness, the rape, the neglect, the stress, the hopelessness. The Phantom could blame everything horrible that had happened to him on his birth defect. I could blame it on my cutting.

Couldn't I?

Damn it, I needed to stop having random deep conversations with myself. I was already late by now.

Running out of my dressing room, I came in quick contact with another ballet dancer.

"Sweet Mary, Addie! I thought you had fainted or something. Are you alright?" Meg knelt down to me as I sat rubbing my head.

"Ouch," I mumbled. Standing swiftly, I leaned on Meg for a moment and then regained my balance. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just lost track of time, I was so deep in thought about… life." Hoping she wouldn't realize that I was pretty much lying through my teeth, I smiled big and grabbed her hand.

"What are we learning today?"

"Well…" Meg was weary for a moment, but then gave in to my big smile. "I was thinking we could learn the dances to Don Giovanni. I noticed that you had a bit of a hard time with the turns in Rigoletto, and the next Opera only has more." Meg spoke the truth. I had almost fallen on stage during Rigoletto, and Madame Giry had yelled at me for the better part of an hour. Now it seemed that Don Giovanni would be featuring more of those most _wonderful_ leaps and turns that were set on killing me. Before I could stop myself though, I let out the burning question that was on every ballet girls mind.

"Is it true we are to do The Magic Flute after Don Giovanni?" I asked quietly. Meg's large brown eyes turned dark and she glared at me.

"Just because my mother is the leader of the ballerina's does not mean I know the selection of the next Opera. Really Adalicia, I had hoped you wouldn't fall victim to the rumors of the Opera House," She said, her tone clipped. I swallowed wearily before continuing.

"I heard that Carlotta won't be playing Pamina, does that mean she'll be playing the Queen of the Night? Is it true that there will be open auditions for Pamina, or are they just giving it to Christine?"

Now Meg just gaped at me.

"H-How do you… we've never even… I told no one! Don't breathe a word of what you know to anyone else or my maman will have our hides," She whispered hostilely.

"Only if you tell me everything _you _know." I added, raising an eyebrow wickedly. Meg squared her jaw and nodded, pulling me onto the empty stage. She glanced around quickly before sitting down.

"Alright." She licked her lips apprehensively. "Monsieur Andre says that he will not permit Carlotta to play Pamina, or the Queen of the Night. I heard mother arguing with him- something about more letters from the Opera Ghost," I inhaled sharply and she gazed up from her feet at me. Looking down again, she continued. "I assume they've been threatened, again. This time Monsieur Andre doesn't want to risk anything- the Opera House will close if someone else dies."

"Has someone died before?" I asked in shock.

"My goodness, I forgot you only just came here. Yes, unfortunately. Monsieur Le Flore was up in the rafters, joking about the Phantom of the Opera. A moment later a noose was tied around his neck and he fell to the stage. His body… Should I continue?" I nodded eagerly. "His body hung perfectly behind Carlotta. She had been performing and everything- then there were screams, and she turned around and saw him. Poor woman- and poor Monsieur Le Flore! The dead nearly frightened _Carlotta_ to death."

I sat wide eyed, amazed at what I was hearing. This wasn't how the Phantom of the Opera went. Nothing important happened until right before Christine had her chance to sing. That would be when Monsieur Andre had first come here with his partner… and he already worked here. Could it be that I had accidentally altered the events of the Opera House? Did that mean I could save Piangi's life, and the two orchestra members who would be killed in the chandelier crash? If it would even crash at all.

"That scared Monsieur Andre into listening to the Opera Ghost. Now he has informed him that Carlotta will have nothing to do with The Magic Flute, and that Christine will indeed play Pamina."

"But what of the Queen of the Night?" I asked, excited. I must be honest, I was rather hoping that the Phantom had suggested me- he did say that he liked my voice, didn't he?

"The note specified nothing more than what I've said." Meg said quietly, and I sighed. "Were you hoping that it would be you?" She said with a sheepish grin. I nodded a little, returning her smile.

"Me too." She whispered. "I guess there's a part of all of us that wishes the Phantom of the Opera would listen to us too,"

Everything got quiet then. We both felt the same way. It was a relaxing silence, and I guess that's what drove me to continue to speak.

"I heard him. I saw him." Excitement bubbled in me as I began to tell my secret.

"Him? You saw the Opera Ghost?" Meg sat up straight and leaned in, taking my hands in hers. "Before you say anything else, be careful. I've seen Christine after she was with the Phantom. Her hands were cold, her face white as a sheet, and she spoke of darkness and fear in riddles that he whispered to her. She lost herself, Adalicia. And she is still searching in the night for the part of her that she misplaced." I shuddered at Meg's insightful words.

"I will. I was singing on the stage a few nights ago, and he spoke to me. He told me I sang well, even better than Christine," I added in a happy whisper. I felt like a small child, but it was still fun. "Then I fainted, I was so surprised! I woke up and I was there. Surrounded by music and beauty, candles and a genius at a large organ. We talked briefly before he took me back to my room. Then the other day I was… I was walking back from a stroll around the Opera House and he came to me, in my dressing room. We um, sat there for a while. Then he left. Then I came running here, that was why I was late." Meg gasped and took me by the shoulders.

"Maybe he'll let you play the Queen of the Night! It doesn't require any turns," She added with a giggle.

"Speaking of which," I muttered, getting up and pulling her up gently by the hand. "I do believe that I need to learn the choreography for Don Giovanni."

"Your Rigoletto could use some work too…" She teased. "We do have another week of shows and I don't want you falling on me!" We both laughed pleasantly and began working, leaving all thoughts of our conversation behind us as we twirled across the stage.


	8. Two Broken, One Whole

**Mooooooo. Here's more! Gotta love writing in school, you get like 5 chapters done. xD**

Two hours later, I managed to make it to my room before collapsing from exhaustion. I ran through the day in my mind and sighed. I was late to practice after spending the night with the Phantom of the Opera. After practice I was raped. Then the Opera Ghost comforted me in my room, saw my cuts, and I saw him without a mask. Then I kissed him, then he left, then I told Meg too much, and then we danced for too long. The room was still spinning slightly, and I couldn't feel my feet.

"Oi vay." I mumbled, sprawling out on the floor. "What a day. I could sleep for eons. And yet, tomorrow morning, here I'll be… awake. Dancing. Pretending all this… this complete _shit_ didn't happen to me." I spoke dryly, my sarcasm bitter. "Thanks God. I really appreciate this. What do my parents think? Did Sage come looking for me? Is my sister okay? Maybe I'm dead. Maybe I've ruined the future of musicals and entertainment since I've altered this Phantom of the Opera story. Great. It's like that one… that one short story…. I read it in…" I yawned and curled up a little. Slowly my grasp on reality faded away and I crashed into sleep.

Screaming. Why was there screaming? Didn't the person know that it was bloody early in the morning? Jesus, it was relentless. Now there was pounding at my door.

Peeling myself off of the floor, I rose and padded to the noise.

"Ah huh?" I said, my eyes blurry and dry.

A very scared Meg and Christine came rushing through the open door.

"It's Carlotta! And Piangi! They're leaving the Opera House for good! They won't be coming back, and the performance of Rigoletto must be put on tonight and we need both a Duke and a Gilda! Adalicia, what do we do? They've asked me to take over as Gilda, but that leaves Giovanna open? Meg said you can sing, please sing, please please please! We have no one else and I know you aren't the best at all the turns in the ballet, so please! I can convince them to let you, if you can sing," Christine bubbled out. I took a step back in shock.

"Uh, what?" They simply blinked before urging me to sing something. I quickly racked my brain for some song I knew well.

"If the sun went down tomorrow and it never came back… and the city went quiet and we fade to black. Well I won't have a single regret and I wouldn't change a thing. Because I never knew I could feel what I feel inside of me. Better to have loved, than never loved at all. Better to have dreamed than never to have taken the fall. Better to have held you and let you in than never to have touched your skin. Better to have hurt, and screamed, and cried- fallen to the earth for a trip to the sky. Better to have loved…. you." By then end of my little song, Meg was crying a little and Christine drowned me in hugs.

"What? What?" I ask, frantic.

"That was beautiful! You'll be Giovanna this time, and Donna Anna the next!" Donna Anna was the female lead in Don Giovanni, the Mozart opera we would be putting on after Rigoletto closes.

"I doubt it. You're a much better trained musician, Christine. I've never even had a lesson…" I admitted quietly.

Christine paled suddenly, glancing around the room. Then she gently grabbed Meg by the wrist and turned to leave. As she reached the door, her head swiveled back and her large brown eyes met mine.

"Perhaps you will have a teacher very soon," She said ominously, though she was very distant. Then the two left.

I paused for a moment, taking in what had just happened. Finally I came up with an appropriate response to the situation.

"What the f-" I was interrupted by the rustling of paper. Jumping around, I saw a single note sitting on the vanity table.

I read it out loud eagerly:

"My dearest Mademoiselle Adalicia,

It is within my deepest pleasure that I present my continued admiration of your vocal prowess. Should you wish to proceed in your opera career, I would advice that you seek tutelage. Fortunately for you, I am indeed a renowned teacher. Miss Daaé is an aesthetic example of my abilities. If this is what you desire, you need only call for me. I will teach you, mademoiselle, and you will rise to musical greatness.

~Phantom"

I snickered slightly after reading the letter, before setting it down and raising my arms towards the mirror.

"Of course, Monsieur Phantom! I require all the teaching I can get," I said rather loudly. Why would there be any question on the matter? I needed help badly.

"As you wish," Came the deep voiced response.

About halfway through the vocal and breathing exercises, the Phantom exhaled sharply. I clamped my mouth shut and stared at the mirror in horror. How badly of a sour note did I hit?

"I must admit I did not hear my mistake, Monsieur," I said quietly.

"There wasn't one, mon cher," He said flatly. I took a step back, confused.

"Then why did you…" I questioned tentatively.

"Please continue with the aria, Adalicia," He raised his voice slightly and my eyes widened. What in God's name had I done wrong? I quickly began the song again, focusing intensely on the music- I refused to mess up again. I ran it multiple times, and each repetition was met with unhelpful comments.

"Good."

"A little more diction would help."

"That was pleasant."

"Remember breathing techniques at bar 54."

"Nice job."

Finally, I grew sick of it and walked right up to the mirror.

"If I'm a hopeless case, let me know. If you're just tired, and that's why you're ignoring me, go sleep. We can work later. If you are just ignoring me- well then, I honestly don't understand why you volunteered as teacher in the first place. I am trying very hard and would appreciate honesty and support, if you can provide it, Monsieur." A cold silence filled the room. Suddenly, the mirror disappeared and a gloved hand reached out. Grabbing me around the neck, I was yanked into the dark corridor.

When air became more difficult to attain, I stopped beating against his hold and became frozen with terror. They did this when they were raping me. Was he going to rape me? I was going to be raped. No, no, no! Not again! Please help. I can't move.

I broke into a cold sweat and started trembling. My blood seemed to drain into just my heart and I was literally stiff with fear, my eyes wide. When I stopped protesting he took his hand from my neck and I remembered to breathe again, now that I could.

"Please don't… please don't…" I kept mumbling, and tears began to streak down my face. "Please don't, please don't, please don't…" But he kept pulling me down through the maze of cold, dark stone by the wrist. I wanted to faint but I was too scared to do anything but breathe and whimper for my life.

Eventually we reached a river and he sat me down in a boat similar to a Gondola. With a long stick he pushed us along in the deep green water, and I almost jumped out. But when I saw the splash from a long fin, I decided I could escape a little later on.

The boat led us to his sanctuary, where I had woken up before. It was furnished beautifully and I greatly admired his successful mash between the medieval candle look and the stylish scarlet reds and gold's of the Victorian decorations. Hauling me out of the boat, he glared at me through his full face black mask.

"Your temper does not become you," He hissed. "That will get you nowhere, peu d'oiseaux chanteurs." Little songbird. Was that his sick nickname for me? I almost retaliate with more anger, but the look in his deep yellow eyes did not soften the pointed fear within me. I remained frozen, awaiting the horrible act. I only hoped that he would kill me swiftly.

"I'm trying to help, don't you see? You cannot just…" He trailed off, pacing about as I sat erect in a chair. He ran a hand through his hair and turned back to me. I was surprised to see his eyes turn soft, and he came to me and spoke gently, but with deep concern.

"You're trembling and look sickly pale. You haven't spoken and you are very cold- and when you do speak you've only been begging me not to do something. What is that something you so desperately want me to avoid?" Sadly, at his last remark, the spark of danger reemerged.

"P-Please… D-don't…. N-not ag-gain…" I spit out through chattering teeth, my body growing weak from the strains I'd been putting on it.

"Don't do what again?" Now the Phantom was getting irritated.

"What THEY did to me…" I managed to say after some time. I stopped shaking and just sat there, eyes empty, staring far off. "Please don't do what they did to me, Monsieur…"

He sensed my odd behavior and licked his lips cautiously.

"Who's they? And what did they do to you?" Again, my courage came when I was utterly broken.

Making eye contact, I took a quick breath.

"Three men. The one's who raped me yesterday afternoon," I stated hastily. The Phantom then erupted.

"They did WHAT? I will skin them. I will torture them until they _wish _that they could be raped. They will bleed out of every pore in their body and then they will do it again," His muscles tensed and I my fear frozen body was released. Rushing to his side, I placed a calm hand on the small of his back.

"No, Erik. More bloodshed is not what we need. Killing someone defeats the immediate problem but leaves large waves in our wake, that will cause us to be overwhelmed later on," I said softly, rubbing my hand in small circles soothingly. It seemed to work and he began to relax, eventually meeting my gaze.

"Is that why all this has happened, then? The bloodshed? The murder, the death, the killings, all the pain? Was I born with tumultuous waves already splashing about me? Why can I never be free, Adalicia…" His final why was choked by unheard sobs, and I led him to his bed. It was surprising and slightly scary to see such a powerful man simply lose his hard outer shell and collapse. But that did mean that he felt safe in my presence, at least. I wish I could say the same for him.

Laying him down in his bed, I stroked his hair back into place and he removed his shoes, tie, and outer coats. Settling down, his hand met mind and he stared at the touching point before squeezing my hand lightly. His eyes began to flutter closed and I made a move to get up and find some couch to sleep on- but his hand held fast. Smiling a little, I sat back down and leaned against the uncomfortable wooden chair. Erik was already asleep, and I could see the truth in his face- he was just a lost and lonely little boy. Kissing my little one on the forehead, I kept holding on to his hand and closed my eyes too.

Maybe two broken pieces together can be fixed into a whole again.


	9. Eat, Eat, Eat

**Life is so full of things that you have to do. Sigh. At least im HOPEFULLY getting coffee tomorrow morning, then scaring the living daylights out of my best friend.. AGAIN! After school, that is. And I leave for the beach on Thursday! But… so much work for me to do. And things seem to be crashing down, like, everywhere. I've ended up composing a lot more… every lunch. OI LIFE WHY U SO HARD?**

My cheek hurt. Why did my cheek hurt? So did my wrist. Actually, everything hurt. I could barely open up my eyes. Luckily there were no bright lights that would have blinded me- in fact, it was very dark. Was it still night?

No. No it was day time. It was eternally dark down here, where I sat in a chair, next to the Phantom of the Opera.

"Damn…" I whispered as I tried to release my hand from his vise like grip. I shook my wrist a little, attempting to let him know that I was held fast- but he only tightened his grip. At this point, I let out a yelp in pain. He was crushing my wrist! Did I just hear a bone crack?

"Phantom, please!" I said quietly, before becoming irritable and resorting to "desperate measures", as they say.

I jabbed him in the ribs with my free hand and screamed. He let go and literally jumped, er, _fell _out of bed. He collected himself in a moment and stared at me in horror. I could feel his eyes glaring into my body, but I refused to look up from where I was rubbing my sore wrist.

"Damn, Phantom… where you dreaming about strangling people or something?" I said nonchalantly, trying to break the silence. I let out a chuckle before clamping my mouth shut- since there was a very high chance that he _had _been thinking about choking people to death. I hope I wasn't in his dream.

"My apologies, mademoiselle. It was not within my knowledge that I was doing anything," He said quietly. I almost burst out laughing again- he was so… what's a good word for it? When things get out of order, he just turns into a pruney old lady, all uppity and cold, way too proper, like somebody was giving him a wedgie. Unfortunately all these thoughts did not help me contain my laughter.

"What is so funny?" He asked defensively, striding towards me. His forward movements caused my chortling to get caught in my throat suddenly.

"N-Nothing." He eyed me for a moment and then stuck out his hand.

"Come." I took his boney hand tentatively and slowly stretched out my cramped body. I guess I spent the whole night in a chair, holding the Phantom's hand. We strode out of his bedroom and he led me to the dining room. Pulling out a chair, he beaconed me to sit and then disappeared into an adjoining room, presumably the kitchen. I rose from my chair and examined myself in the mirror.

My long brown hair was frizzy on the side I had pressed against the chair, and I had dark circles under my large eyes. I was still in my faded and wrinkled pink ballet gown from what, two days ago? I sighed deeply and tried to press out some of the winkles with my hand, but to no avail. I rubbed my face to wake it up and patted down my hair. Glancing around the room, I noticed a small red ribbon tied elegantly around a wine glass. Hoping he wouldn't mind, I took off the ribbon and braided my hair. I used it to tie off the end in a bow, smiling at the now at least decent figure I saw in the mirror. I turned around to sit back down only to see the Phantom leaning the doorway. I stared at my feet and hoped my cheeks weren't as burning red as they felt. I shuffled back to my seat and sat down quickly, clearing my throat a little. I'm pretty sure I heard a small chuckle from behind me. I swallowed my embarrassment and faced him with one my "charming to meet you, nice joke" smiles. His eyebrow was raised in amusment.

"Well, you certainly gave me a scare!" I said with a chuckle. "Now, where have you been?" My chin sat in my hand and I cocked my head to the side. I'm not proud of how I act all the time, but being cute and charming and well, manipulative- it can get you what you need.

"Getting you something to eat, mademoiselle." He placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of me and I smiled big, genuinely.

"Thank you!" I said warmly. "But I'm not hungry, I'm sorry. Here- you look like you need it more than me," I handed it back to him and he looked at me strangely. He took a seat to the right of me and simply stared.

After a while, I got bored of it all and opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it.

"When was the last time you ate? Yesterday lunch, breakfast, dinner?" I furrowed my brow in concentration.

The last time I ate was two days ago, a bite or two of breakfast and then some lunch between rehearsals. Of course, I didn't tell him that.

"Lunch yesterday. In the town with Meg- we ate enough to feed 5 children," I said with a giggle. He gave up staring at me and began to pick at his food. Eventually he finished chewing and spoke again.

"You're lying."

I literally stopped breathing. How the hell did he know?

"You didn't eat yesterday, and you barely ate anything the day before. Why did you lie?" He returned to his cold, dangerous self. I watched my words carefully.

"I guess I lost track of the time…" I said meekly.

"No!" He slammed his fists into the table and stood, arms shaking with anger.

"You are LYING, Adalicia! You chose not to eat, you little viper. Why would you do that?" The Phantom towered over me and I blinked at him for a moment or two before gathering my thoughts.

"I just want to be beautiful, Phantom. And to be beautiful as a woman, one must be skinny. And to be skinny, I don't eat. I eat enough to survive, and it truly doesn't bother me or cause any problems. Just look at me- I have enough fat to last me a couple weeks," I added darkly. I knew it wasn't very becoming to use self-degrading humor, but I liked it. It was the kind that caused my eyes to have a spark in them, and a heat deep within me burn. It made me feel powerful and dangerous.

"How can you… Why would you… Did someone say you were not beautiful?" He said angrily, pacing back and forth. Standing, I slunk back to the corner of the room in case his rage caught fire and exploded.

"Of course, monsieur. They called me fat, they called me a whore, they called me everything- they called be beautiful, too. But only for my face. They didn't see beyond my face. Or they did, and saw only the ugliness. No one saw all of me, they never have. I trust you understand how I feel," I said, gesturing to his mask.

"Who would only see beauty? Who would only see ugliness? Who could be so incredibly dense, wasting their time by ruining other's lives, how could anyone be so abominable…" He trailed off once more, clenching his hands into fists.

"It doesn't matter, Phantom. Everyone has to go through that, I don't deserve to be an exception." I said with a slight smile.

"That is NOT true! You deserve everything, Adalicia!" He faced me and then took a couple steps back, his hand covering his mouth. I could see the same thing play across both our faces.

"_What did he just say?" _


	10. Rosebud Sing

**HEY everyone! Remember me? I am SO sorry it has taken almost a year for me to update! Life has been more crazy than it ever has, but do not worry. RECAP: Addie and the Phantom are in his kitchen, in the lair. The Phantom just found out that Addie has been starving herself to become "beautiful" and exclaims in his rage that "she deserves everything!". The next scene is picking up right where that left off… awkward town. (just a recap since I always forget what stories are about when they don't update in aaaggess) This story will be continued, it will never be given up! So please, please, read and review! One of the biggest reasons I stopped last time was that I stopped getting reviews, so I assumed you all hated the story and started a club for people who hate my plot lines. xD so a HUGE thank you to Megaplus069 who reviewed begging me to continue. And that is the reason I did continue! If anyone here follows my other works, Black and White should be updated soon (that would be my RENT fanfic, if you're into that, you should go check it out!). If you ever wanna talk or anything really, message me peasants! Just kidding. You guys make my life. Please review and enjoy the next chapter.. **

I don't think awkward could correctly describe the situation I was in now. The Phantom and I both stood, the silence pushing down on us.

"Um…" I choked out. I glanced up at the Phantom, who was pinching the bridge of his nose and quietly hissing out his rage.

"That appears to have had adverse affects than expected, mademoiselle. It was never in my objectives to make you feel uncomfortable." I just nodded and then took a deep breath. I didn't like feeling awkward.

"Thank you anyway. If you meant what you said at all, it would be interpreted as quite the sign of affection- or, er, I mean a compliment. Just something nice to say, you know. Nice things that people sometimes say to someone they like- not like-like, just generally tolerate the presence of- you know, I really think maybe I should go back… up… where nobody can hear my crazy talk.. I'm sure I'm needed on stage. Not that I don't enjoy your presence, it's wonderful to be around you even though you killed people- " I hit myself on the head and spun in a circle. The Phantom raised an eyebrow at me and I smiled a little.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk to me anymore. I've gotten the whole 'freak' thing a lot; don't worry about it, Monsieur." I began walking to the door, but he caught me by the wrist.

"_Holy shit he's going to kill me," _I held my breath and hoped it would be swift. He spun me around to face him, and he analyzed me with his two golden eyes. I bit my lip and felt my eyebrows furrow in an expression of worrying.

"Pardon me, mademoiselle."

"Yes?" I whispered fearfully.

"You talk too much." Now I was just confused.

"My apologies…" I bowed my head a little.

"I can fix that easily, if you would permit me too,"

"_He's going to sew my mouth shut, or duct tape it- oh thank goodness, it hasn't been invented yet. I'm going to end up like that dude on Coraline- my mouth all stitched up in a smile since I speak too often. Great." _I almost laughed at my dramatic thoughts. Not seeing anything to lose, I nodded.

He began to lean into me, and I realized what he meant. He was going to kiss me! The Phantom of the Opera was going to kiss me!

His breath was tickling my blushing cheeks and I couldn't help but lessen the distance between us a bit more. His hands brushed my face softly and I closed the space between us.

As soon as his lips touched mine, as soft as velvet, he pulled back.

"No…" He began, shaking with rage. Should I kiss him again? Had I done something wrong? I stuttered for a moment and then reached out to him.

"Was I that bad?" I said, turning my head to the side and laughing a bit.

"_Excuse _me?" His eyes met mine, now dark and glowing. I couldn't make myself say anything else. My lungs constricted and I could feel my stomach drop. What if he hurt me? If I died here, would I wake up on the steps in the theater all Inception-like? Or would I just be dead? Was I already dead?

In the time while I was literally thinking about my place in the world, the Phantom had grabbed my wrist and held it up, pushing me against the wall and leaning on me. Now, I'm not skinny, and this Phantom- the real Phantom, I guess- wasn't either. He wasn't Gerard Butler, but he wasn't a popsicle stick. He felt skinny but with tight muscles. I, continuing to show my amazing skills at being off topic, wondered how he was so fit. From killing people and stalking sopranos, I would guess.

"Why would you let me do something like this to you?! I dare touch you, how dare I, you let me! I am a monster. A horrific, ugly, monster. Gaze upon the horrors that just dared to touch you!" His passion was emulated in his spit as he made his point both verbally and physically. Throwing his mask to the floor, I tensed up as to make sure I didn't freak out. That would be a one way ticket to wherever I'd go after he killed me.

There were some moments of silence. He lifted his eyes from the floor and met mine. He looked like a kicked puppy, all lost with those now creamy yellow eyes. His expression seemed to beg me for some sort of response- he looked as though even a scream of horror would be nice; in fact he was expecting it.

"I'm gazing," I murmured softly. "Not running." I added. He nodded at me and took the mask, smoothing in on once more.

"Let us return you," He said, his façade of control back once more.

LATER

In my dressing room, I had just come from a meeting with the Opera managers. Apparently under lots of consideration and hardly any pressure from an 'anonymous and concerned individual', they were favoring me for the next Opera. Thrilled, I had practically skipped back to dance rehersal. Madame Giry even allowed the girls to swarm around me as I spoke of what I'd been told.

"Oh, Adalicia! That is wonderful! I'm so happy for you!"

"Très bien, mon cher! Tu aimes chanter." _(Very good, my dear! You love to sing.)_

"Et je n'aime pas danser!" I said with a laugh. _(And I hate to dance!)_

Madame Giry permitted this chatter no longer and her cane made a large bang as she slammed it against the ground.

"From the beginning," She said, her words clipped and emotionless. "Tu chantes demain. Dor maintenant." _(You sing tomorrow. Sleep now.) _

"Oui, merci Madame," I bowed my head and scampered off to my room. I hoped the Phantom would be there.

Flinging the door open, I couldn't contain my excitement anymore.

"Did you hear, Monsieur le Fantôme? Ils parlent! Ils parlent je would play a part in the next Opera!" My languages easily mixed together. I prided myself in being fluent in Spanglench. That would be a mix of Spanish, English, and French. _(They say! They say I…)_ But the Phantom was not there. Instead there was a lumpy, dark purple object on my bed.

"My.. backpack?" I said, confused. It was my backpack from, well, from before all of this. Opening it tentatively, I found it to be packed just as I had last left it. A change of clothes for after swimming, some binders and homework sheets, and my Iphone. I grabbed that in seconds and pressed the home button- somehow my stuff had ended up here and somehow my phone was charged. Frantically I entered my password, Rosebud Sing, the name of a lullaby I sang to little kids when I volunteered at camp, and went to my messages. I would just text my mother and ask what was going on, tell her I was okay… Then of course it dawned on me that I had no service, and wouldn't for quite a long time. At least I could still play fruit ninja, or magic piano. I reached next for the clothes- finally, I didn't have to wear a corset and a long dress (though, I must admit, the style was so beautiful I was almost in heaven). I had a pair of yellow short shorts and a tank top blouse with light pink roses on it. I released my hair from it's bun and spun in a circle, now sporting my new- well, old- clothes. There was a slight cough from the mirror.

Turning around quickly, I noticed an obviously blushing Phantom.

"_I bet he's never seen a girl with so little clothes on," _I thought to myself, my tongue sticking out a bit between my teeth as I gave my hips a sultry sway. I backed off quickly though, as the weight of my thought impacted me. I didn't want to push him to crumbling.

"I should have…." He trailed off as his eyes hungrily stared at my figure. It began to get more and more disconcerting for me, considering I had been raped a few days prior. But I tried to feel safe with him. As safe as one could feel when they're in the presence of a ghostly murderer.

"Knocked?" I supplied, shrugging my shoulders a bit. How could I explain this outfit? Would he believe me? Somehow, I didn't think it would go over well, telling him that I'm from the future and somehow magically woke up here and that all girls dress this way now, unless you're Mormon. And not that there is anything wrong with being Mormon. After this thought, I remained silent.

"I've never seen clothing like that." He said quietly, standing unmoving in front of my massive mirror.

"It's imported; a foreign style." I made up quickly, passing off the subject by swatting my hand through the air.

"Very well. I believe we have some music to work on, if you'd permit me to assist you." I nodded and tried to contain a smile as his leather gloved hand encased me and we descended once more to his lair. Along the way, he asked me to wait while he undid a trap that had been set up recently, as some men had been prying too far into the workings of the lake under the Opera House. As he disappeared into the darkness, I stood very still. I must admit I was terrified. One false step, he had said, and I would be killed slowly and painfully. To keep myself calm, I began to sing the first thing that came to mind- my lullaby.

"Rosebud sing to the little baby bird, rosebud sing to the sweet morning dew. Rosebud rise along with the sun, rosebud sleep after a long day of fun. Rosebud sing to the little baby birds…" There was a quiet splash a ways off and I froze. Terror made my body become an immobile block, awaiting the danger that lurked in the unknown. Opening my mouth a little, I continued the song. "Rosebud sing your song… Welcome the moon and welcome the sun… in the sweet spring dew, my little Rosebud sings…" Another splash and a strange noise, like a clink of a chain being shifted.

"Sing little rosebud… rosebud sing.." The song was finishing now, and I became more and more paranoid. What if it wasn't the Phantom returning? "Sing little rosebud…"

Very suddenly, two golden eyes gazed down on me and a black cape billowed around me. I felt the ghostly touch of a single gloved hand on my lower back as he pushed me towards him ever so slightly.

"Rosebud sing." He finished the lullaby and retreated from our closeness, taking my hand once more. "Come. It is safe now." And I followed him, listening to the last notes of the lullaby echo through the spacious caverns as I dreamt of the music I would be creating so soon.


	11. The Things You Are

**Hello again everyone! Life hasn't been the best lately and I've been trying to pull through and make another chapter. I FINALLY completed a sketch of the whole fanfic, and it's going to be long but not crazy long. I just figure I owe it to my fantastic readers to have a long, hopefully decent, fanfic! So PLEASE review, it makes me beyond happy. Like I said, life has been really rough lately, and a single review brightens it SO much. Alright, enjoy my sweets! PM or Review if you have suggestions, comments, or just want to talk. **

"Beautiful," Erik said softly. I opened my eyes and smiled, blushing as I noticed he was staring right at me. I wasn't so sure he was commenting on my voice.

"Wait here, I shall fetch us drinks." Erik rose, all tall and immense and terrifyingly beautiful, yet ugly and scarred and dangerous. He lured you in like a flame, and no matter how careful you were or how much you loved him, you would always get burnt.

"Would you mind if I played…?" I asked tentatively, gesturing slightly to the grand piano he had been sitting at.

"Do you play, mon cher?" I nodded.

"Oui, a bit."

"Feel free." He left quickly to the sanctuary of his beloved kitchen as I scrambled to the piano.

How I had missed this! The white ivory, the booming sound a grand can make, old and yet in tune, preserved and well used.

I pressed down the D. Glancing to make sure he wasn't listening in, I began a piece that I'd written the past year. It was very simple, but I was so proud of myself to have written real music. In comparison to Erik's genius though, I felt ashamed to even play in his presence. But the sound of the piano was overwhelmingly perfect, and I was quickly lost in my music.

I finished the song with a chord, G major, and relaxed.

"That… felt sad." I jumped to hear the low baritone voice of the Phantom from across the room. He stood, leaning against the door way, two mugs in hand. I noticed that he had taken off his coat, and now was in a tight black dress shirt and black dress pants. He looked very schnazzy. I bit my tongue before I could say this though, seeing as 'schnazzy' was awkward even in MY time.

Seeing as I didn't answer, Erik continued.

"It's meant to be happy- it's written in a major key. D major, B major, A major, G major. But you play it like you've lost something you loved." He said quietly. I chuckled a bit at his comment.

"I guess you're write. I wrote it for someone I loved more than life itself. I… I'm not sure where that person is anymore," I said, thinking deeply. Where was she? Was she missing me? Did she even know I was gone? It had been many months.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Erik whispered. I met his eyes and smiled.

"Love lives on," I said, giggling a little. I quickly quelled my laughter when I realized I had just made a reference to the sequel to the Phantom's story in front of the Phantom.

"That is very true," Erik responded, his voice far away. "Would you mind if I asked who you lost? I lost many things as a child, if it's any consolation."

I nodded. "My sister. I love her more than anything, more than life, more than music. If I didn't have a sister, I would have joined the military straight out of school. But now… I have no idea where she or my parents are. I feel stranded and lost and helpless and guilty for being so happy." I had let myself babble on and quickly scrambled for some sort of thing I could say to cover up.

"The military?" He asked, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Oh, yes, I come from a very liberal country. Anyone is allowed in the military as long as they are over 16 with parental consent, or 18 without. Most children go to school from age 5 until age 18, then they can either go to college, try to have a career without college, give up, or join the army. Rosemarie, my sister, she just inspires me to stay. I have to be alive for her…" I paused, sighing, trailing my hand along the keys of the piano. "But now I don't know if she's alive, and she probably doesn't know if I am."

Erik came up and handed me the mug of tea, and we sat down in front of the fire. He tended it a bit and in moments it flared into life.

"Reminds me of my father," I murmured. He gave me a pained glance, knowing that he could do nothing. I didn't expect him to comfort me. I simply appreciated that he was listening and not treating me like a child.

"In other news, Rigoletto closes tomorrow!" I said with a sigh. I had been playing Giovanna off and on, depending on if Carlotta had randomly appeared or not. She hadn't for the past week and it had been amazingly stressful, but completely fantastic. The crowds adored me! I couldn't get enough of it. But there was a constant feeling that I would fall asleep and wake up in my old bed, all of this a silly dream from a silly little girl.

"It does. I presume the next opera will be announced soon?" He said courteously.

"Oh, don't be silly- everyone knows that it's Don Giovanni. In fact, I am being heavily considered to play Donna Anna. Isn't that magnificent?" I smiled, swishing my legs back and forth and clenching my hands in front of me and locking my arms- this action completed my 'adorable little excited girl' look, but also pushed up my boobs quite a bit. Since I was wearing my clothes from the 21st century, a certain little cleavage line appeared down my front. I watched as the Phantoms' gaze turned from quiet amusement at my happiness to a sharp intake of breath and a heavily distracted eye contact. I heard the almost silent squeak of leather as he clenched his gloved hands into fists.

Well, whoopsies? I was just acting normal- didn't mean to do _that_. But it was kinda cool, too.

"That's great, Adalicia," He said after a while, accompanying his comment with a long sigh.

"Isn't it? I'm overjoyed. Are you attending the party tomorrow night, for the closing of Rigoletto?" I asked this before it even dawned on me who I was talking to. He picked up on my embarrassment and chuckled, shaking his head.

"Of course not, mon cher. Je n'aime pas danser et les copains. J'adore moi, et la musique, et non mieux." I smiled at his answer; he could be so ridiculous at times, and he knew it (_I don't like dancing or friends. I adore myself and music, and not much else.)_.

"Ah. I'm very excited to see everyone. I always have loved parties. Everyone is just so… alive. It's vibrant and beautiful." I was an extrovert. I always thought introverts were funny, with their quiet little ways and their hatred for public things.

"I'm very glad that you are happy, but you must be going now. One more performance to go, and your voice must be rested. And then a party, which it seems as though you will be a primary member of. Rest now, mon cher, and dream of Rosemarie et la musique. You will find her again, somehow. Je sais. L'amore vit." He kissed my hand and lifted me from my chair, leading me back to the boat (_I know. Love lives on._). We spent the rest of the trip in a comfortable silence. As we departed at the mirror, I turned to him and smiled.

"Merci beaucoup, Monsieur. Truly. Je suis tellement heureuse." I walked up to him and wrapped my arms under his, pressing into his upper back as I pulled him closer. He stopped breathing for a moment and I could feel his heartbeat quicken. Tentativley, his arms wrapped around me and settled on my lower back. It was such a wonderful feeling, I couldn't compare it to anything else in the world. Nothing was as new and as familiar as that. The embrace lasted a few beautiful moments, before he drew back and pressed his forehead to mine.

"Toi, toi, toi. Les choses que vous êtes, ma douce ... vous ne réalisez pas tous .. Oh, ma chère ... si seulement…" And with that, he vanished into the dark and I was left with a huge smile and a new surge or happiness and confidence.

All night long I hummed to myself what he had whispered:

_You, you, you. The things you are, my sweet… you do not realize them all… Oh, my dear… if only…_


	12. Perfect Night

**30 reviews as of this evening! My dears, you BLOW me away. This has been making me feel so much better lately! Been some trying days with my family, but things are looking up! I think I have everything under control :D voice lesson tomorrow too! So, thank you ever so much to all of you, whether you read now and then or diligently follow. Any pair of eyes is loved by moi! And a special shout out to Autumn, who was my 30****th**** reviewer! You are all magnificent. Erik would bestow a thousand kisses on you if he wasn't a repulsive maniac! :D and you know, in love with some other ladies ;) Warning: contains spoilers for Love Never Dies. This chapter is long and a wee bit over the top. Also, I do not own the characters Meg, Christine, Raoul, or Erik/Phantom- they all belong to their respective creators. Adalicia and other OC's are of course, aLL MINE. Muahaha. Alright, lets get to reading, shall we?**

There was a knock at the door. I heaved a sigh of relief.

"Come in!" I called, my voice obstructed slightly due to the fabric in my mouth.

"Addie, whatever are you doing?" Christine and Meg walked in to my room, already made up for the ball that would be commencing in just under an hour.

"Trying to lace up my dress!" I said. Meg giggled at my muffled speech and rushed to take the string out of my mouth.

"That is NOT how you lace up a corset," She said, trying to sound authoritative like her mother, even mockingly jabbing a finger at me. I just laughed, and Meg's stern completion melted into a joyous one as she joined me in the fun. Christine seemed distant. She sat at the side of my bed, nervously running a hand through her blonde curls, a small smile toying at the edges of her lips.

"Why Christine- I do believe I know that look!" I exclaimed, glancing at Meg and feigning shock with a little gasp- which was intensified when Meg pulled a corset string tight.

"As do I…" The two of us shared a mischievous smile and linked arms, snaking our way through my room to where Christine sat. I seated myself to her left and Meg to her right. We stared at her until she began to laugh nervously, a blush starting to color her slender cheeks.

"What?" She asked, as innocent as ever. I rolled my eyes and Meg just jostled Christine a bit.

"Oh, you know! Who is it? Who's your lover? Your beau?" The girls gazed at me, eyebrows furrowing. Shit, what was the word for boyfriend in France?

"Suitor, you mean?" Meg supplied. Oh. That's what it was.

"Yes- where I came from we had different names for it, sorry." The continued, paying no attention to my mix up.

"He isn't my suitor, he's just a… a friend. He's there for me whenever I need him. He speaks to me and calms me, he provides stability- he's been there for me since childhood." She said smiling, engrossed in a personal memory of what I presumed to be Raoul. After all, it couldn't be the Phantom. Erik certainly felt something for me, whether that be love or not, I couldn't tell.

"So who is it?" Meg asked excitedly. I'm sure she still believed that he was really her suitor.

"My Angel of Music," She whispered softly. My heart dropped.

"Your what?" Meg asked.

"My Angel of Music. When father died, he said he would send the Angel of Music to me. And since I father passed, I have been visited by the Angel. He has taught me to sing, to live, to listen- I have spent my entire life with him. He watches over me. He is a gift from God, and from my father." She smiled and made eye contact with each of us. I tried my best to mirror what Meg looked like, masking my inner dread. How did she NOT know that her Angel was the Phantom? That he was my Erik?

Oh, goodness. MY Erik. I've certainly been jumping on that ship quite quickly. Foolish, foolish, foolish little girl I am. One softly spoken word that might ring of love if chimed correctly and I'm then jealous over another girls' Angel of Music. He couldn't love me. He shouldn't love me. For goodness sake, he's supposed to have a kid with Christine! What will happen to Coney Island- or even now? Christine was his muse, so is Don Juan Triumphant even being written?

"Adalicia, did you want me to do your makeup?" Christine asked, clasping my hands. Her deep brown eyes stared into mine and I smiled, shaking my head.

"No. I like to get ready on my own, so I can make a properly spectacular entrance to the gala." The two girls giggled and trotted out of my room, already chattering about something else. The door closed with a quiet click and I slammed my head into my pillow.

"No soy intelligente! Tengo dolor de mi corazon. Y en mi mente! No se, no se, no se! Ai… ahora, yo quiero dormir. No pienso, duermo. Pero mientras dormaba, el angel de la musica canta canciones en mi cabeza. Es eso tan malo?" I paused. "Non. Je serai heureux ce soir. Je saurai oublier." _(I'm not smart! I have pain in my heart. And in my mind! I don't know, I don't know, I don't know! Oi… now, I want to sleep. Not think, sleep. But while I sleep, the angel of music sings songs in my head. Is that so bad? No. I will be happy tonight. I shall forget.)_

I tended to mix up languages when I wasn't focused on speaking coherently.

My make up! I ran quickly to the Vanity and began to adjust my hair and apply makeup. My dress was a deep blue with yellow swirls embroidered along all the hems. Black lace framed the top of the dress and hid my rather ample cleavage. That was one odd thing that I hadn't expected. Girls here have been wearing corsets since they began to develop breasts- I, on the other hand, started just this year. While many would be considered a B cup (and appeared much more with those corsets that work better than Victoria's Secrets' push up bras do), my C/D's seemed to pile out of all my clothes. It's still an age of modesty here and such actions would be seen as heinous. I wasn't protesting. There were enough drunkards about who hunted women down already, without a pair of breasts heaving in front of their beady little eyes- and after what had happened to me before… I didn't want to add anything to risk being harassed again.

I loved my dress though. It was long and yet firm fitting enough to show that I did indeed have some beautiful aspects. My backpack that I'd found had yielded some more surprises- my makeup. Applying it, I looked different and gorgeous. Any excuse for a party meant I was full out. Dress to impress or you're expecting less.

But my hair was a very different story. Long, straight, brown. I hadn't remembered to put it in a wet braid or in curlers, so styling it any way other than straw-straight was out of the question. I gathered the front parts from either side and clipped them together in the back, and braided the strands together. On top of the bobby pin I placed a black lace barrette with a few dark blue sparkles to match my dress. I let my bangs fall in front of the left side of my face, creating a sort of semi-sultry look when I gazed at people, head tilted to the side, through my bangs. Obviously I then practiced this in the mirror.

I laughed at myself- goodness, I was strange! But that was okay. Because I couldn't remember a time when I was happier.

Now prepared, I bounded out of my room and headed to the ballroom. Walking down the steps, I gasped in amazement. Everything was a light cream and gold shine- women in every color twirled like pastel paints slowly being mixed in to the background shades. The contrasting dark blacks and tans of the men who stood valiant as their ladies painted a beautiful scene provided stability to the eye when it began to wander from one bright thing to another. I leaned on a banister to stop from becoming too dizzy. How gorgeous and magnificent! How lucky I was.

I walked around and met with Meg and Christine. Christine introduced me to Raoul, who I must admit was very attractive. He was older looking, like Hadley Fraiser Raoul in the 25th Anniversary- but much more charming, like Patrick Wilson Raoul in the 2004 movie. I could easily see why Christine chose him. But it was more glaringly obvious to me why I wouldn't. I'd been bred to hear the word "FOP" echo through my teenage mind whenever I laid eyes on the "pansy-child". Obviously, as a Phantom fan, I had favored Erik and Christine and not Raoul the Towel, as I had fondly called him.

I didn't say any of this, simply nodded and accepted his slight kiss to my hand, and turned to meet Meg's suitor.

"This is Victor," I recognized him as the first bassoonist. He, too, was very handsome and kind- but with a young and adventurous spark in his eye. His kiss lasted slightly longer, and I almost recoiled my hand after a couple of awkward seconds. But Meg gingerly touched his shoulder and he practically stood in attention. I smiled at that. I had always hoped that Meg found a wonderful man who would give her everything that she deserves.

Ah, but I was alone now. I resumed my role as wallflower, one I had become very accustomed too. People glided past, murmuring "wonderful job last night" or "you look beautiful", but such statements from strangers all meld into one cacophonous and screaming compliment that makes you feel all but beautiful or worthy of their words. I sighed a bit, and found my way to a more secluded area, where people wouldn't be constantly bumping into me. Oh, yes, I was quite the extrovert- but it was more difficult to go swimming through the crowds here. I was a young girl with no date, and it would be seen as improper. I twirled a strand of hair around on my finger, smoothing out the folds in my dress with the other hand.

Something cold and leathery gripped my shoulder lightly. I turned swiftly to see two golden eyes shining down on me. I couldn't old back a smile, or a sigh of happiness and relief.

"I cannot believe you came!" I said, holding back from yelling out of excitement.

"I couldn't bear to see you stand alone as your friends danced," Erik said softly, placing the strand of hair that I'd been messing with safely behind my ear. I smiled and felt a blush rise into my cheeks and tried to beat against its heat. Of course, that didn't stop the redness from enveloping my face.

Luckily, Erik only placed a cool hand on my cheek and let me lean into it.

"I'm so glad you came," I said, my eyes fluttering closed as I enjoyed this moment of quiet. Out of impulse I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders. He responded in his usual way- stiffening before accepting the touch. Someday, I thought, I'd have loved him so long that he wouldn't flinch at all. He would wrap his arms around my lower back and push me closer to him, and in those moments I would truly know how far we have come together…

I guess that means I've really accepted it.

I'm stuck here. And that isn't all that bad.

"No," I murmured, glancing up at the yellow eyes and slight smile in front of me. "This isn't all that bad at all."

"Shall we dance?" Erik asked, his low baritone making my ribs vibrate. I smiled and turned my head to the side.

"Why, how noble of you to ask! I would be simply delighted to," He led me back farther away from the party and drew me close. We began a waltz and I had to remind myself to continue breathing as we stepped around the empty room.

We began to slow and I looked up at him quickly. My head had been resting on his shoulder for some time now. How long had we been dancing?

"I'm afraid I must leave you now. Your friends will be returning soon." I nodded a little, trying to continue to smile though I was sad about us parting. How could such a perfect night be over so fast?

"Thank you for a splendid night," I whispered to him, leaning closer to his face. Hoping it wasn't too much too soon or anything, I pressed my lips against his. To my surprise, he responded immediately. His large hand pushed my lower back closer to him and I smiled and continued to deepen the kiss. I felt the slightest brush of a tongue, nervously asking for entrance. I opened my mouth and reveled at the feeling of someone else being so close to me- sharing my breath, our songs mixing for one brief and beautiful moment. He pulled back and I gazed at his eyes, now slightly darker after a passionate kiss like that.

"Thank _you_," He said quietly, holding onto my hand until he couldn't anymore as he disappeared into the darkness of the room. As if by magic, Meg and Christine then came in.

"Oh Adalicia! We were looking for you everywhere! Why are you hiding back here?" Meg asked.

"I was just dancing, that's all. Dancing and listening to the music." I responded.

"Weren't you lonely? We felt so bad for having suitors with us while you had none!" Christine added. Meg nodded her head furiously in agreement. I laughed at the two in their seriousness.

"No, no- do not worry at all. My night was simply-" I breathed out, for dramatic effect of course- "Perfect. Simply perfect."


End file.
